


heliotrope

by opalesce



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Netflix and Chill, i guess this is pwp??, jeon wonwoo just looking really incredible, lavender silk pajamas, soonwoo have excellent taste in movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 14:56:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13483878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalesce/pseuds/opalesce
Summary: Wonwoo, in simple terms, likes to be felt—doted on.





	heliotrope

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically just really gratuitous soonwoo netflix & chill based on that one liev where wonwoo wore the lavender pajamas.
> 
> thank you @ amber and kokko for Moral Support!!!

When Soonyoung gets home, Wonwoo is sitting cross-legged on top of the pull-out couch (they’ve taken to holding movie nights in the living room, as Wonwoo always dozes off right away when they try watching in bed) with his laptop resting over his thighs. He’s already changed into pajamas—or maybe he’s been wearing them all day? Wonwoo has no Friday classes, anyway—a matching set of silky lavender, with neat white trim around the collar, lining all the way down the middle of the shirt alongside glossy buttons.

Upon looking up from his screen to greet Soonyoung with a smile, he leans back cozily against a mess of throw pillows he’s thrown over the makeshift headboard of couch cushions. The movement causes the neckline of his shirt to skew to his right, and Soonyoung can’t help but to linger on the sight of defined collarbone for an extra moment.

“I brought snacks,” Soonyoung says, shrugging his backpack off. He unzips it to retrieve two Ziploc baggies of honey butter chips, waving them a little before tossing them onto the edge of the pull-out. Multiple kids had been absent from the third grade class at his student teaching job (internship, _unpaid_ internship) today, something about strep throat going around. Luckily, their real teacher is fond of Soonyoung, and has made a habit of offering him the extra snacks whenever there are any, which he always gratefully accepts.

With the way Wonwoo springs into action to grab a bag, they may as well be made of gold. “I love your job. I’m questioning my entire college education.”

“You can always work in, maybe, a library. They could have treats in the children’s section, right?” The corner of Soonyoung’s lips quirks up into a faint smirk, though. Aside from this bounty of leftover potato chips, their kitchen at present consists primarily of cereal, containers of cheap take-out that are definitely past their prime, and instant ramen. He feels like somewhat of a hero whenever he gets to bring home something fun and explicitly unhealthy, _for free_.

“One, that would be library science, not just lit.” Wonwoo swallows, already reaching for his third chip. “Two, food is definitely banned from libraries, and basically every other place with books. I’ll _never_ have work chips.”

“Guess you’re lucky to have me, then.” Soonyoung heads into their bedroom to change his clothes, emitting a noise that’s vaguely half-laugh, half-yelp when his shoulder is hit by a flying, round throw pillow on the way.

By the time Soonyoung returns, dressed down in a comfy pair of gray joggers and a loose white sleeveless shirt with Spongebob across the front, Wonwoo is down to his last couple of chips, and eyeing the other bag in front of him. Soonyoung tsks, but when he climbs onto the pull-out, he hands the remaining bag of chips off to Wonwoo, who wordlessly thanks him with a wide, nose-scrunching grin. To be fair, he’d already eaten a bag… or two, before leaving the school.

Plus, it’s probably true that Wonwoo will never have his own work chips.

Wonwoo digs into his new chips and returns attention to his laptop, scrolling through the contents of their joint watch list in search of the movie they’ve chosen for tonight. In the slight glow of the screen, the silky sheen of his pajamas is exaggerated, and it’s a small thing, really, but Soonyoung finds himself kind of struck by it anyway. It’s not that this is the first time Wonwoo has ever worn something like this. Wonwoo has consistently been the fanciest presence within their little apartment for as long as they’ve been living there (not that the bar is set all that high), even since before his parents had gifted him that set of essential oils for his birthday a few months back. The color is definitely new on him, though—Soonyoung doesn’t think he’s seen his boyfriend wear anything purple in the two years they’ve been together, and now, he’s struggling to fathom why not.

Soonyoung situates himself next to Wonwoo, starts to lie back against the pillows before changing his mind and shifting to drape himself over Wonwoo’s side, instead. He tucks his head into the crook of Wonwoo’s neck, sighing both at the warmth he finds there and the sensation of how soft the fabric of the shirt is against his cheek. With one eye peeking out at the screen, Soonyoung raises his fingers to lazily graze over Wonwoo’s arm just below the edge of his sleeve in back and forth motions.

“Should I press play, now?” Wonwoo asks, unfolding his legs to stretch them out alongside Soonyoung’s.

After an affirmative hum from Soonyoung, the beginning credits of the movie start to roll, flashes of bright pink set to an optimistic pop song that just _sounds_ like the early 2000s. It’s a personal favorite of Soonyoung’s, of both of theirs; he considers one of his greatest successes in life to be getting Wonwoo into this movie early in their relationship, even if Wonwoo’s initial, misguided lure had been that the main actress is attractive. _(“That’s the whole point of the movie, Wonwoo,” he’d explained, “she’s so much more than that!”)_ Soonyoung’s hand slides down Wonwoo’s arm and lingers over the back of his hand, thumbing at it until Wonwoo takes Soonyoung’s into his own to slot their fingers together.

When it gets to a particularly fun scene, a video the leading lady films of herself, Soonyoung automatically begins to mouth along to every word with enthusiasm. He lifts his head up slightly to check if Wonwoo is doing the same (he is, of course he is) and is quick to lose his focus on the scene, mouth stilling, in favor of taking in how _good_ Wonwoo looks this close up, in the moment. The sight of Wonwoo positively beaming, eyes bright behind the lenses of his glasses, has Soonyoung awed.

It doesn’t help that Wonwoo’s black hair, just a bit overgrown, and mussed in the back from rubbing against the cushion, contrasts beautifully with the lavender. That _shirt_ , off-kilter again at the neckline—okay, so this time that’s Soonyoung’s own fault, it’d been tugged to the side when he started nuzzling him, but still. It’s essentially an open window to several spots he’s very aware would work Wonwoo up if he were to, for example, bite them.

He’s not sure whether the feeling curling up in his stomach is stemming more from lust itself or a build-up of sheer adoration, but it doesn’t really matter. Either way, he is sure that his desire to have Wonwoo’s dick in his mouth is vastly outweighing his desire to finish watching the movie at this time, no matter how inspirational said movie is.

Soonyoung hovers his free hand above Wonwoo’s waist for just an instant before it slips underneath the shirt to splay over Wonwoo’s lower belly. With gentle pressure, he runs his fingers over Wonwoo’s abdomen in mindless shapes, pausing after every few strokes to curl around his side and just hold him. He lays his palm flat against the area right below Wonwoo’s rib cage, then buries his face closer into Wonwoo’s neck to press his lips to warm skin, nipping contentedly at the same spot when he feels the catch of Wonwoo’s breath beneath his fingers.

Wonwoo, in simple terms, likes to be felt—doted on.

Just like that, Wonwoo reflexively arches his back and untangles their fingers from each other so Soonyoung can touch more of him. He breathes out a small sigh at the feeling of Soonyoung obliging him, drawing slow, comforting circles with his thumb right in the center of Wonwoo’s back. Soonyoung drags his other hand farther up the front of Wonwoo’s shirt to brush against a nipple once, twice, much too softly to be anything but blatant teasing. It earns him a low, needy whine from Wonwoo, who fruitlessly attempts to press up with his chest for more contact.

Soonyoung trails a finger down Wonwoo’s stomach, tracing the neat line of hair from below his belly button down to where it disappears into his pajama bottoms.

“You’re saying you don’t wanna watch the movie?” Soonyoung props himself up on an elbow, tries to appear smug when he faces Wonwoo but breaks and laughs, breathily, at the look Wonwoo is giving him—eyes unblinking, mouth shrunken up in a way that suggests he’s concentrating hard on not laughing, too.

Soonyoung glances back to the movie still playing on Wonwoo’s laptop. At this point, the main character has achieved getting into the school she’d applied to. A clear parallel to how close Soonyoung is to achieving getting Wonwoo’s dick into his mouth, he thinks. He doesn’t bother to actually click the pause button, just flicks the laptop most of the way closed in a rush and moves it onto the floor beside the couch.

With Wonwoo’s lap finally unoccupied—God, those lavender pants look incredible on him, too—Soonyoung makes a show of climbing on to straddle him, fingers hooking into the pocket of Wonwoo’s shirt when he leans down to kiss him. Wonwoo is eager to part his lips for him, a pleased hum from Soonyoung as he licks into Wonwoo’s mouth. His hands grasp at Soonyoung’s ass to guide Soonyoung’s hips down into his own, and Soonyoung ruts against him, both groaning in frustration, frustration because the friction is somehow both overwhelming and not nearly enough.

Dragging his lips to Wonwoo’s jawline to leave a messy path of kisses all the way up to Wonwoo’s ear, Soonyoung slips his hands back beneath Wonwoo’s shirt, just to touch him, in the purest sense possible relative to their current situation. Soonyoung makes a noise only vaguely resembling Wonwoo’s name at the feeling of Wonwoo snaking a hand down to palm at Soonyoung’s hardening cock through his joggers. He can feel the shells of his ears heating and blushing pink, and he may be more bashful about it were it not for the flush developing over the exposed portion of Wonwoo’s chest, too.

His hands run up and down from Wonwoo’s stomach to chest, deliberately avoiding the nipples, in as delicate and steady a pattern as he can manage with Wonwoo’s hand unrelenting. He stops on a downward drag at the edge of Wonwoo’s waistband, taking a second to toy with the small bow the drawstring is tied into before he pushes fingers underneath and Wonwoo’s pants are shoved down to bunch around his ankles.

Wonwoo spreads his legs apart enough for Soonyoung to nudge into the space between them, knees slightly bent. A whimper escapes his throat when Soonyoung presses a hand back to his stomach, this time so low that the bottom of Soonyoung’s palm flirts with the base of him. Soonyoung lowers his head, plush lips connecting with the inside of Wonwoo’s thigh at the same time he wraps his other hand around Wonwoo’s half-hard cock, flicking his wrist in loose strokes. He applies more pressure with the hand on Wonwoo’s stomach when he feels Wonwoo’s hips buck, keeping him in place.

Slowing the pace of his strokes, he licks at the precum beading over Wonwoo’s slit and runs his lips down in a wet line past the head, open-mouthed, keeping his eyes fixed on Wonwoo’s face. Overwhelmed, Wonwoo begins to fumble with his shirt buttons, only managing to get one button undone before Soonyoung pulls his mouth off of him.

“Just that one,” Soonyoung tells him, still working him (albeit slowly, much too slowly) with his hand. He makes eye contact with Wonwoo, lips wet and shining. “Leave it on for me, babe.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Wonwoo breathes out, low, “okay, just, please.”

Wonwoo finds better use of his fingers in curling them tightly into Soonyoung’s hair once Soonyoung sucks the head of his cock into his mouth, anyway. Soonyoung moans, muffled, at the extra length pushed inside, and the vibrations draw a long, shaky whine from Wonwoo, the sound going straight to Soonyoung’s dick in a twisting ache. He needily takes more into his mouth, enough for his nose to brush against curls of hair at the base. This is what Soonyoung revels in—the feeling of his mouth as full as it can get, the satisfaction of being able to work Wonwoo into a mess. Wonwoo’s eyes are screwed shut, now, the back of his hand thrown over his mouth as he does every time he fights a losing battle to quiet himself.

Soonyoung is tempted to bring the hand that’d been around Wonwoo’s dick down to jerk himself into some semblance of relief, but instead opts to use it to cup Wonwoo’s balls, earning himself a stifled moan of his name.

“Soonyoung.” He’s removed the hand from his mouth, this time, his voice shaking but loud. Soonyoung bats his eyelashes at him, increasing the pressure of his mouth just enough to make Wonwoo squirm. “Soonyoung, _fuck_! Please, I want to,” his breath catches when Soonyoung pulls back to suck on just the head of his cock, hard, “wanna ride you.”

Another wave of heat to the pit of Soonyoung’s stomach.

He slides his lips off of Wonwoo’s dick with a lewd, prolonged, _wet_ noise, before moving up Wonwoo’s body to kiss him. There’s nothing patient about it, mouths open and tongues sliding against each other, Soonyoung almost too far gone to think about his next intended course of action until Wonwoo starts whining into the kiss at the cloth of Soonyoung’s pants rubbing into sensitive bare skin.

Soonyoung climbs off of him, panting breaths as he gets up to retrieve lube from their bedroom nightstand. He tugs his shirt off and tosses it somewhere or other on the living room floor on the way, having discarded his joggers as well by the time he returns.

Holy shit.

Wonwoo has kicked his pants fully off his ankles and is sitting upright with his legs very much freely spread open, his partially unbuttoned shirt looking significantly less polished than it did to begin with. His skin is flushed, over his cheeks and in patches across his chest. The sight of Wonwoo like this, cock deeply reddened and glistening slick, has Soonyoung biting the inside of his cheek. Soonyoung feels his own dick twitch involuntarily, and he’s inclined to agree with its sentiment. He hurries to drizzle lube generously over his fingers and warms it, leaving the bottle comfortably within reach, just in case.

Soonyoung has barely gotten himself onto the pull-out couch when Wonwoo climbs into his lap and rolls his hips insistently against Soonyoung’s own, the feeling of skin on skin eliciting gasps from them both. Soonyoung’s fingers dip down between them to graze past Wonwoo’s perineum, running the pad of a finger over his entrance before pushing inside. Wonwoo wraps an arm around Soonyoung’s shoulders and presses their chests closer together, pulls him into a kiss while his hips keep pace with Soonyoung’s finger.

When Wonwoo starts to nip at Soonyoung’s bottom lip, Soonyoung adds a second finger, then a third, curling them on every inward thrust. With each brush of Soonyoung’s fingertips against Wonwoo’s prostate, Wonwoo moans into Soonyoung’s mouth, his grip around Soonyoung’s shoulders tightening.

“More,” Wonwoo says, breathless, all swollen bright pink lips and dazed eyes when he pulls back.

Soonyoung carefully slips his fingers out, rubs comfortingly at the small of Wonwoo’s back when Wonwoo groans at the emptiness and raises his hips. He pumps his dick a few times to slick himself up, then aligns it with Wonwoo’s hole, pushing the head in with a short moan and allowing Wonwoo to sink down onto him. Wonwoo inhales sharply, bites his lip when he starts to grind his hips down and set a steady pace. Soonyoung drops his head into Wonwoo’s shoulder, a string of hushed obscenities mostly unintelligible even to himself coming out of his mouth at the heat of Wonwoo surrounding him.

He touches up and down Wonwoo’s back, his sides, over his abdomen—anywhere he can get his hands on, just the way he knows Wonwoo loves, knows will wind Wonwoo up. Wonwoo’s hips crash down into his own harder, more frantic, when Soonyoung digs his fingers into Wonwoo’s upper thighs and trails his tongue from Wonwoo’s collarbone to curl around a nipple. Soonyoung flicks his tongue over it, sucks it between his lips, urged on by Wonwoo’s whimpers getting louder. And, fuck, Wonwoo is taking him in deeper now. Soonyoung moans out, almost a yell. He applies more pressure to Wonwoo’s thighs, tries to adjust the angle of the thrusts to hit Wonwoo’s prostate better.

Wonwoo’s shirt slips down off his shoulder on one side from the movements, and Soonyoung experiences a flash of ache course through his entire body.

“So good like this,” Soonyoung groans. The image has him teetering on the edge of sensory overload. “Really pretty, making yourself feel good like this.”

Soonyoung wraps his hand around Wonwoo’s cock, then, and pumps him in fast strokes, a strangled sound coming from Wonwoo’s throat. It’s quick that Wonwoo starts to clench around Soonyoung, the rhythm of his hips getting sloppier. He drops his head and starts babbling into Soonyoung’s neck, a mix of Soonyoung’s name and unclear half-cries, back curved as he comes all over Soonyoung’s knuckles and his own stomach. Soonyoung keeps up his strokes while Wonwoo rides out his orgasm, but the noises, how tight Wonwoo is around his cock, all of it is becoming too much, and the movement of his hand is erratic.

Once Wonwoo’s body starts to calm, Soonyoung holds onto him by the hips and thrusts up into him, hurried, stuttering when he comes with a sob. Wonwoo’s face is buried warm in the crook of his neck, pressing slow kisses there until his hips still. They’re both too languid to move much; they stay the way they are for a bit, Soonyoung brushing lazy fingers over the back of Wonwoo’s neck, Wonwoo trying to regulate his own breathing. Wonwoo squirms when Soonyoung does move to pull out of him, repositioning himself more comfortably on Soonyoung’s lap.

“I love you,” Wonwoo murmurs. He looks so sated, eyes heavy-lidded when he gives Soonyoung a series of pecks to the lips that leave both of them breathless.

Soonyoung thinks he can actually feel his heart swell. “I love you, too,” he replies, forehead touching Wonwoo’s.

After they’ve both cleaned themselves up, they curl back up on the pull-out together, Soonyoung having picked the laptop off the floor. They mutually decide to return to the movie, despite the fact that the laptop hadn’t properly gone into sleep mode and they’ve now missed at least half of it. It’s not like they don’t both already know it like the backs of their hands, anyway.

Wonwoo settles in with his chest firm against Soonyoung’s back, spooning him. He tugs a blanket over both of them, then lays his arm over Soonyoung’s waist, lacing their fingers together once he meets Soonyoung’s hand. Soonyoung flips the laptop screen up and angles it for Wonwoo, whose chin is resting on Soonyoung’s shoulder, to have as clear a view as possible.

(They both fall asleep like this by the end of the movie, even before Wonwoo’s favorite part, but it’s alright.)

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on twitter @hoshipocus ♡
> 
> in case anyone is unsure, the movie they were watching absolutely IS legally blonde, i think it's important for everyone to be aware


End file.
